Licking Batteries
by Red Shiloh
Summary: Relationships break down all the time, you stay while it works and when it doesn't, you leave. In the wake of Tony and Pepper's breakup Bruce is there to pick up the pieces, but nothing ever works out how it should and sometimes it can be the hardest thing just to be ok.
1. The Good That Won't Come Out

The deterioration of Tony and Pepper's relationship had become the elephant in the room.

It was uncomfortable for everyone, but mostly for Bruce. Most days he just didn't know where to look. If it wasn't barbs traded across the table it was screaming rows long into the night, it was Tony staying out late and coming home drunk, it was Pepper banging books and files and laptops, seething in her swallowed rage.

Stark Towers held an atmosphere that was awful to live in and to be honest, Bruce was itching to leave. But the worse things got between Pepper and Tony, the more Bruce felt the pressure to stay.

It was a pressure he resented; he'd been responsible only for himself for longer than he could remember and to have the stakes changed so suddenly, he felt nervous and on edge.

He liked Tony, he really did. He had more time for Tony than anyone he could think of but he just wasn't ok with Tony's whole self-destruction thing. He had enough of his own mortality issues to deal with never mind having to look after a drunken Tony who came stumbling into his room late into the night stinking of scotch and self-loathing.

On the day when it all came to a head, Bruce was situated in the main living quarters with music playing full volume on headphones and reading the first line of page 76 of his book over and over as he focused on ignoring yet another of Tony and Pepper's infamous fights.

Tony had been working downstairs in his personal tech room. He'd been there for the better part of the morning and afternoon nursing a hangover and perfecting the energy reserves on his latest suit design.

The elevator chimed and Bruce glanced up to see Pepper step into the room dressed in her usual haberdashery of skirt suit, lipstick, and high heels. Her face was like thunder as she stormed past. She gave Bruce a polite, if strained, nod which Bruce returned even as he felt his insides clench.

JARVIS had already informed Bruce that the two of them had been up half the night arguing until Tony had stormed out in search of the nearest booze hut. Now it seemed Pepper was ready for round two.

Pepper swiped her ID through the card reader and the light flashed red. No entry. Pepper tried it again, same result.

"JARVIS!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Potts, your access to the tech room has been temporarily—"

"Bruce! Give me your ID." She took a steadying breath, willing softness into her voice. "Please."

Bruce figured he had two options here, hand it over and receive Tony's ire, or refuse Pepper and face his demise right then and there. He concluded that at that moment Tony was the lesser of two evils and he tossed her his personal StarkTech ID which Pepper caught and thrust savagely through the reader.

The light shone green and the doors opened. Pepper threw Bruce his ID and then she made her descent into the tech room, the click-click of her heels echoing behind her.

Bruce watched her go warily; he thumbed the volume higher on his headphones and hid behind his book, weathering out the storm. Even with the blaring music, he could still hear the echoes of the savage fight below.

Pepper had to have been down there for an hour, two tops, when she stormed back up the steps. She shouted something at Tony over her shoulder which was either telling him to screw himself or that she was going to sue him. Either was plausible. Something clattered up the stairs after her, a screwdriver thrown by Tony.

Pepper slammed the tech room door so hard the glass shuddered and likely would have broken if it weren't reinforced. She closed her eyes and let out a strangled shout, practically seething in fury as her fists shook by her sides.

She breathed in, then out again, calming herself, and then her heels clicked primly as she walked back across the room. Bruce glanced up at her from beneath worried brows, his book sinking down into his lap. In almost every way, Pepper was her usual immaculate self, suit pristine, flawless strawberry blonde hair pulled into a loose bun, but the bloodshot eyes glassy with unshed tears were a dead giveaway.

She glanced briefly at him as she stormed past. _No_ her eyes said. _I'm not ok. I don't want to talk about it. Just don't._

She gathered herself while she waited for the elevator and Bruce watched her posture change. She rolled her shoulders back, sniffed once, carefully, and lifted her head high.

"Good luck, Bruce," she said over her shoulder and it sounded more like a warning than anything ever could have. Bruce tried to ignore the dread curdling in his stomach.

The elevator doors chimed and Pepper stepped in. She turned around and tears threatened to brim over, she bit her lip hard, white dotting over the pink flesh. The doors closed and with them, Pepper was gone.

Bruce sat in the resulting silence, he could hear the electric thrum of music still playing through his headphones around his neck but he left them where they rested, waiting.

Silence down below, he imagined Tony to be hunched over his desk, locked arms propping him up and head hanging down, just breathing. Breathing and sulking and festering.

Bruce sighed and dropped his head back against the couch, counting. He counted to ten, and then he kept going. Tony appeared in the mid hundreds.

He jogged up the steps and burst through the door, raking a hand over his face and shaking his head like he'd just completed a hundred metre sprint and was coming down from a burst of intense adrenaline.

Tony nodded his head at Bruce. "We're going out." It wasn't a question.

Bruce set his book aside, spine cracked to save his spot. He went to grab his coat and resolved himself to playing sympathetic shoulder for the night.

* * *

Five whiskey sours and a blur of obnoxious coloured shots later, and the only real sign that Tony was any kind of drunk was a slight slurring of words and a loosening of lips.

They sat in the corner booth of a dingy American-Irish bar that Clint had introduced them to a few months back. It was poorly lit with threats scrawled on the bathroom walls (that had since been contributed by members of the Avengers with such beauties as 'Put a Cap in that ass call 1800-captain-my-captain) and a sticky film over the table tops, but it was quiet and no one really cared who they were or why they were there. Of course Tony did garner a few curious looks, but usually he was just dismissed as 'some guy who looks like that billionaire super hero', because why would the real Tony Stark, the billionaire playboy philanthropist, be frequenting a dive like this?

Bruce nursed the same beer he'd been drinking all night. He wasn't much of a drinker, and not just because of the Other Guy. In his eyes drinking changed people, and he wasn't a fan of that, ever. Tony however had insisted Bruce match him with at least half of the shots that night, because it was just rude to make a man drink shots alone. So Bruce was feeling at least some of the effects and the world had taken a hazy glow, his limbs feeling heavy and tired.

Tony slumped beside him, toying with his glass of whiskey. They'd reached a natural lull in conversation, one of those melancholy periods when words had run out and they were content to sit together and just be for a while. Only this lull was flavoured with the unpleasant bite of Tony's raw nerves.

"It was never going to last," Tony said finally. "What did she expect? I'm just not the kind of guy that can make it work. Ever. I can't even commit to an eighteen month phone plan, how the hell am I supposed to commit to another person?"

Bruce's mind wondered to contracts and people and how odd it would be for every person that came into your life to sign an agreement stating the period and conditions of their role in your life. He wondered if it would be easier knowing the length of love, knowing that it wasn't forever.

"There aren't contracts with people, you stay as long as it works, and when it doesn't…" Bruce swallowed a mouthful of his room temperature beer. It probably wouldn't be easier, he decided.

Tony didn't seem to have heard him. "I just can't do all that. It was exhausting you know? Listening to shit I don't care about, second guessing everything. When she was mad she'd never bother telling me why, she was just all 'well if you don't know by now you'll never know'. What the hell is that? Seriously… and who the hell is even allergic to strawberries?"

Tony shook his head, downing his drink.

"You know what, Bruce? I'm glad she's gone. Good riddance."

Bruce knew that wasn't true. He knew that with the same conviction he knew his own name. Tony was a wreck without Pepper and it was only going to get worse. But he also knew not to call Tony on it, not tonight.

"Why don't we finish up here and get back home? We can do more work on your suit tomorrow."

"No… no, what we need is to get the hell out of bedlam and get ourselves where the beautiful people are." Tony gave Bruce a salacious wink. "We need to get laid."

"No, I'm pretty sure neither of us needs to get laid."

But Tony was already up and dragging Bruce with him. He threw a handful of notes that amounted to way over their actual tab on the bar and then dragged a reluctant Bruce into what was the start of a number of wild nights on the town.

tbc...


	2. Bad News Romance Fans

Thank you for reading this. Specific thanks to DevRiot for the lovely reviews. You are a wonderful person! Let me know how you're all enjoying it so far and your thoughts, nothing hones a story quite like feedback.

If you'd like to see the article below as an actual image, then click this link: s43. photobucket albums/e371/surges/licking%20batteries/

Also, because of the formatting that doesn't allow, I'm having to upload this story differently to how it's supposed to be. If you would like to see the proper format, you can read it here: archiveofourown works/520627/chapters/920244

Just remove the spaces in both links for them to work.

* * *

Article from Popular Magazine Issue #113

**_Bad news romance fans! _**

_It looks like splitsville for Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Close sources reveal that things haven't been rosy between the two lovebirds for a while now. In fact, it has been reported that Pepper hasn't been living in Stark Towers for** three months!** Witnesses report seeing Pepper in a sunny resort in California last week licking her wounds and soaking up some much needed sun to beat those relationship blues. Tony has been seen hitting a number of bars with a number of different blondes on his arm. Could this be the beginning of Tony's slippery slope back into his old ways? Sources say Tony checked himself into rehab 3 years ago for alcohol dependency but he has been seen out and about drinking in a lot of places recently. And by a lot we mean a lot! Neither of the pair, affectionately nicknamed by the press as 'Pepperony', have released a statement regarding the split, so this is all speculation. But a close friend of the two was quoted in saying "It's definitely over, it's a shame it really is. They were so good together. Pepper just couldn't handle sharing Tony with so many others." Could this mean that Tony has actually been doing the dirty when he was supposed to be committed to Pepper? If that's the case then Tony you have been a very naughty boy! So with the split of America's Iron Couple, which side do you fall on, Team Tony or Team Pepper? We know which we're on. Vote below!_

* * *

Bruce sat at the kitchen counter with a steaming mug of decaf coffee and an as yet untouched croissant. He scanned through the various articles, marvelling at A.) The sheer number of them. And B.) The appalling inaccuracy of each and every one of them. Some things hit close enough to home to be unsettling; the careless references to Tony's struggles with alcoholism being the main contender. But some claims were just… astoundingly bad.

Bruce knew for a fact that Pepper was not in California but rather in Washington continuing her end of business as usual. And who exactly was this 'close friend' who apparently knew so much supposed to be? Tony didn't have many 'friends', and certainly none that would ever speak to any kind of reporter. Bruce could only assume this source was a nobody who'd been pictured alongside Tony at a party or gala at some point.

Normally Tony did his own press reviews, setting aside an hour each morning to scan the database he'd set up that caught and filed anything with his name on. Tony didn't trust anyone but himself with his own public image. Except for Pepper, but she was slightly out of the running at that moment. Bruce had taken it upon himself to check through the entertainment and lifestyle sections, leaving Tony with the much safer categories of broadsheet and scientific journals. Anything to do with entertainment was a minefield and he had a feeling that Tony would care a little too much and was just a little bit too fragile to deal with it right now.

As Bruce came to the online media section, he began to zone out. The majority of it was rehashed spiel and poorly photoshopped images. One photo did make him pause; it was of him and Tony from the night before. He couldn't recall which bar it had been, but Tony was leaning into Bruce, his finger pointing savagely in the air and his mouth twisted in mid rant. The caption read "Tony and friend at Los Cabos."

He remembered that night; it had been during one of Tony's more depressive mood swings when he was convinced that he didn't deserve anything and anyone and existed just to ruin other peoples' lives. Bruce hadn't realised anyone had been there to take pictures, it unsettled him to see. He wasn't used to being so in the public eye; in fact he was used to the exact opposite. He'd been hiding so long that seeing his face out there made him feel vulnerable. He had no idea how Tony coped with it daily. The picture made him uncomfortable and he quickly X'd out of the article.

Bruce looked up when Tony shuffled his way into the room. He was dressed in one of his beloved band tees with the sleeves of the undershirt rolled up to his elbows. His hair was still mussed from a fitful night's sleep and he rubbed at the bags under his eyes. He looked hung over and miserable. Without speaking, Bruce pushed his untouched croissant in Tony's direction who accepted it gratefully and began slathering it with a thick layer of apricot jam. Bruce poured Tony a freshly brewed mug of caffeinated coffee and took a sip of his own decaf.

"How's your head?"

"Terrible." Tony chewed on the croissant, testing his stomach. It didn't seem to appreciate his decision of food, and he blanched visibly, pushing the rest of the croissant aside. "My mouth tastes like dog. It literally tastes like dog. Did I eat a dog or lick one or something last night?"

Bruce glanced up at Tony, a wry smile as Tony smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth while shuddering. "Disgusting." Tony caught sight of the tablet in front of Bruce. "What's the damage?"

Bruce shrugged, he minimised the tablet's screen. "The usual."

"And what's that?"

Bruce was reluctant to go into details, it was all trash any way, Tony knew that. Hell, even Pepper knew it, Bruce was well aware that the only reason Tony showed any interest in the gossip was an extended means of torturing himself.

"If you don't tell me I'll pull it up myself."

"Apparently the split happened three months ago, not last week."

Tony nodded appraisingly. "Three months ago was about the time Pepper started moving her stuff out so I guess unofficially they're kind of right about that… what else?"

"Pepper's apparently in five different places at once, mostly sun bathing the heart break away."

"And me?"

"You're getting drunk. A lot."

Tony frowned. "Wait… is that _you_ telling me or what they've been saying."

"Um," Bruce pushed his mug around the counter by the handle. "Both? They brought up rehab… did you go to rehab?"

"No, obviously. Or do you mean did I go to rehab five years ago? Kind of… maybe. I went for the free coffee."

That was something Bruce had not actually known about Tony. He knew he liked his drink more than he should, but that his dependency had at one point been bad enough to require professional help? It was a new revelation, Bruce felt suddenly guilty for every night that week when he'd watched Tony drink himself into a mild stupor.

"Maybe you shouldn't go out tonight."

"Or maybe you don't go out and I do what I want."

Bruce frowned, an uncomfortable beat passed and then Tony sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry. Ok tonight we stay in, I promise. We can do science or some shit. It'll be fun."

Bruce nodded and drank his coffee. He didn't comment on the fact that he hadn't actually been given a choice on whether or not he wanted to be included in this equation. He felt it wouldn't have been productive and it wasn't exactly like he had anything else to do or anywhere else to be, not really.

* * *

Early one morning, Pepper called him. His heart lurched strangely when he saw her ID. Even though he wasn't the one that had been in a relationship with her, it kind of felt like he had been.

"Pepper, hi."

"Hi, Bruce." Pepper sounded tired and sad. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." Bruce cracked his spine, sitting up stiffly, he glanced at his clock, 9AM, _perfect_. He hadn't gone to bed until the early hours the night before. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, it's just…" Pepper sighed. "Tony called me last night. I think he was drunk. I don't know. He sounded messy."

"Pepper, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine Bruce. I just thought I should let you know… I've seen all the photographs. He's not handling this well, is he?"

Bruce wasn't going to lie, but he felt reluctant to make Pepper feel any worse than she already did. "Not really, but he'll get there. How're you handling it?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Not well. Half the time I think I've made this huge mistake. I mean we bickered and made up all the time in the past and I keep thinking maybe I should just call him and try and sort it out, you know? But everything's different now… we were tearing each other apart, you saw us. If we want any kind of chance of surviving this and at least trying to be friends it had to stop before we ended up killing each other."

They sat in silence, Bruce wasn't certain what he could even say in response, and Pepper was caught in some kind of memory. Eventually, she gave a shaking sigh.

"He's a good person, Bruce. We both know that. But he doesn't believe it. And when someone is so adamant on something…" she laughed humourlessly. "Devil gives you fleas."

"What?"

"Nothing. It was something my mother used to say all the time. About Tony actually, when I first started working for him." Another sigh and a long pause. Bruce waited, reading the cues. When Pepper spoke again he voice was quiet to the point of whispering. "I think I just got scared that I was losing sight of him. Sometimes I found myself treating him the same way he saw himself and that wasn't fair… I miss him so much Bruce, but loving him is just so difficult…"

"I understand," Bruce said. And he did, on some level. "Look, Pepper, I have to go." Talking to Pepper felt like some kind of betrayal to Tony, which may have been illogical, but there it was. Bruce felt guilty for thinking of Pepper that way, like she had become the enemy when she was obviously hurting just as badly as Tony, but she wasn't the one left behind. It wasn't Pepper's pieces that Bruce was trying to pick up. "Just focus on yourself. Tony will be ok."

"I know." Pepper's voice was gentle and warm with gratitude. "I'm glad he's got you. You're a good friend, Bruce."

"So I've been told. Look after yourself, ok Pepper?"

"You too… bye Bruce."

Bruce ended the call. In the remaining silence, he dropped back onto the bed, massaging his temples. He never told Tony about the call.

* * *

please r&r...


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